Curse of the Were Geek
by USSManhattan
Summary: Rhonda learns the hard way not to incure the wrath of a gypsy when she's cursed to transform into her worst nightmare at night. PART 3, AT LONG LAST, HAS BEEN UPLOADED!
1. Curses!

1 Curse of the Were-Geek  
  
"Okay, class, settle down, settle down" Mr. Simmons urged his rowdy class one fine spring afternoon. With the usual gradual effect, the talking, tossing, and pacing died off, and the kids looked upon their teacher with the kind of look a typical class of fourth graders would give. Their undaunted, eager instructor headed towards the door, talking as he went.  
  
"Class, although our year is already in progress, we've just received a new exchange student from Rumania. I know that you'll give her the same respect that you usually share with each other, and that her special talents will be accepted easily. But, for now, it's my pleasure to introduce to you our new classmate, Esmeralda!"  
  
On cue, a young girl stepped somewhat nervously into the room. She sported the typical clothing one would expect from her culture, a somewhat timid smile on her face. She stood next to her new educator, grinning hopefully at her classmates.  
  
"I'm very glad to be here in America", Esmeralda stated, her thick accent enforcing her words. Many of the kids in the class reacted with moods of curiosity, interest, or even that this might be an interesting person to get to know.  
  
Of course, a certain student was looking down upon the girl in her usual way.  
  
"What IS she wearing?" Rhonda mumbled to herself, looking at the girl's clothing with annoyance. "Her parents must have picked up some rags from the bargain bin before she came to school today. A pity...I almost feel bad for her. Almost."  
  
"Take a seat where ever you wish, Esmeralda", Mr. Simmons urged, handing her a textbook. "We're just about to continue our history lesson on the West." The young lady smiled and nodded her thanks then gingerly sat in an empty seat surrounded by her new classmates. After seeing her sit, Mr. Simmons made sure his new charge was comfortable, and began his lesson.  
  
"Now, continuing from yesterday, a rendezvous was a place for those who needed a rest or trading along their journeys..."  
  
"Hi, Esmeralda. My name's Arnold. Welcome to the United States", the football headed boy whispered to the arrival with his usual, winning grin. Esmeralda blushed and waved back...he was certainly a charmer. Other kids around her smiled or waved discretely as their teacher drawled on about the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Judging from the appearances, habits, and voices of the children around her, many ways of life were covered here. She was just starting to feel she would easily assimilate American school life when she noticed a girl with black hair and a red sweater, eyeing her with annoyance and partial disgust.  
  
"Greetings...I am Esmeralda."  
  
"Please tell me you actually don't like those...RAGS."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Look, if you honestly expect that you'll get accept here looking like...that..."  
  
"What's wrong? This is how we always dress in the old country!"  
  
"Yeah, well your old country needs a bulk delivery of Caprini cat-"  
  
"Rhonda, is there a problem?" Mr. Simmons cut in. The girl's facial features shifted slightly, and sighed.  
  
"No, Mr. Simmons", the wealthy kid groaned. The teacher looked at her for a moment, shrugged, and continued his explanations of Native American reservations.  
  
"I am sorry...Rhonda...if I have offended you", the Rumanian urged.  
  
"You certainly have...change those clothes, and then, maybe, we'll talk."  
  
Esmeralda shot the snob a glare as she turned back to face her teacher.  
  
An hour later found the new student at lunch. She picked up a sampling of the school's provided dining, and began to walk towards the tables. She was making good progress, too, until she tripped on a loose tile. She wasn't all that hurt, but the splashing sound in front of her told her that she had hit someone with her food. The one person she DIDN'T need to hit, that is.  
  
"My sweats! My precious Caprini sweats! Watch where you're going, you clumsy uncultured twit!"  
  
Esmeralda looked up to see a scowling Rhonda, with nasty milk stains trickling across her sweater and pants. She blushed, and picked up some napkins from a nearby dispenser.  
  
"Please, forgive me, Rhonda...I didn't know that was l-"  
  
"Take your hands off me!" Rhonda snapped, smacking her hands away.  
  
"Why are clothes so important to you?"  
  
"Why are clothes so UN-important to YOU?"  
  
"You are being, how you say, the donkey's hindquarters!" the Rumanian snapped. By now, a large crowd of kids had gathered around the tense situation.  
  
"Oh, boo hoo. Go to the Gap, and then we can talk civilized."  
  
"I sense you do not appreciate the smart or different..." she muttered, fists clenched. Rhonda tossed her head back, scoffing.  
  
"As IF I would lower myself to such a REPULSIVE level!"  
  
"Very well, Rhonda Lloyd...I think some needs to teach you a lesson!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, that's n- Woah, wait...how'd you know my last name?!" the snob asked. Her cocky, confident attitude had been shaken. Esmeralda ignored the comment, staring into her eyes, advancing on her adversary. Rhonda, now slightly shaking, backed away until she had been forced against the wall. The exchange student hovered in front of her now, her cheerful face twisted into a mood of vengeance.  
  
"You feel that people like you are so superior? Then, I curse you to become at night what you hate and fear most...a GEEK!" Esmeralda stared her down a moment more, noticing the nervous sweat dripping down Rhonda's confused, unsettled face. Then, she turned and melted back into the crowd.  
  
"Whillicers, Rhonda...she sounded mighty peeved", Stinky observed.  
  
"Yeah, better watch your back, Rhondaloid", Helga sneered.  
  
"Pffft. As if I'd allow that fashion dunce to spook me. What does she think she is, jabbering about a curse...a voodoo doctor?" Rhonda scoffed, again tossing her black air back in annoyance.  
  
"Actually, Rhonda, if I may give input", Phoebe urged, "I may know why she made that claim. Judging from her habits, personality, and background, I think it may be argued that Esmeralda is in fact one of the Romany."  
  
"The what?" Sid asked.  
  
"The gypsies, as you may be more familiar calling them."  
  
"A GYPSY?! What does that fashion reject take me for?" Rhonda sputtered in annoyance. "I am a LLYOD. We don't believe in such hocus pocus!"  
  
"Suit yourself, Rhonda" Sheena shrugged as she went back to her lunch. The crowd slowly trickled away, until Arnold was left alone with the rich airhead.  
  
"Rhonda, I think you really hurt her feelings..."  
  
"Oh, come now Arnold. You seriously don't consider her threats valid."  
  
"Well, no, but that's not what I'm saying. You insulted her as a person, a way of life, and a culture. I don't think that was a nice thing to do."  
  
"Arnold, you worry...let alone care...too much. I'll be fine...as long as 'Esme' stays out of my way with her 'magic gypsy powers!'" Rhonda giggled, finger quoting the end of her sentence. "Well, I'm off for lunch with my friends, Arnold. Ta ta!" And with that, Rhonda turned on her heels and strolled back to her table, leaving Arnold to sigh and walk off to join Gerald at his.  
  
"A gypsy, eh?" Helga mused to herself softly behind some trashcans. "I think that Esmeralda might come in handy with a certain lil' football head of mine", she smiled wistfully to herself. This could be the chance she had been waiting for. 


	2. The Geeking

Rhonda scoffed as she walked back to her table. Gypsies indeed! Did that.commoner.actually think she could scare her with such ludicrous ranting? The girl chuckled to herself, imagining how the class must have thought how stupid Esmeralda looked, threatening her like that. Grinning self-assuredly, she sat back down next to her friend Nadine, who was looking at her with a strange combination of expressions on her face.  
  
"What?" Rhonda asked as she reached for her milk to drink.  
  
"Rhonda, that girl just put a CURSE on you!"  
  
"Oh, Nadine.you seriously don't believe her?"  
  
"She certainly looked like she meant it."  
  
"Oh, pish posh. Her gibberish doesn't scare me."  
  
"If you say so", the insect lover sighed to take a bite of her sandwich. She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then swallowed.  
  
"Been thinkin' about your report for next week?"  
  
"No, not really.I'm starting tonight, I think" Rhonda mused as she sipped her milk quietly. "These projects are such a foolish waste of time. Why should I care whom this 'Andrew Jackson' guy was when I have so many catalogs to look through for Venice? I have such a backlog." Nadine sighed.typical Rhonda, as usual.  
  
"Well, I'm gonna get some fresh air before class.good luck."  
  
Rhonda waved her friend goodbye, then leaned back to muse what to do for her class project. They were so dull and tedious.surely she could at least find something she could care about for it.  
  
"I guess I should pick some guy everyone knows so I can just skimp on that icky research crap", the girl mused. "Maybe Washington? Nah, Park's doing him. Lincoln? No, Stinky had a book about him earlier. Or maybe.maybe." she gasped with excitement, "General Burnside! I can describe how he failed as a leader and lost so many of his forces; I mean I can design a great PowerPoint presentation an- " Rhonda slapped her hand over her mouth, blinking in shock and confusion.  
  
'Where did THAT come from?!' the young aristocrat asked herself.  
  
  
  
"Hey, Pheebs?"  
  
"Yes, Helga?"  
  
"I wanna talk to you about something. In regards today's fresh meat..." Phoebe's face contorted into one of misunderstanding and confusion.  
  
"The cafeteria acquired fresh meats? I'm surprised, as it's usually delivered on Tuesdays or perhaps, in special instances, Wed-"  
  
"The gypsy!" the mono-browed girl cried loudly, to the point that many diners in their vicinity looked over eyeing her strangely, including a certain little boy who was the reason Helga was engaged in conversation with her book-smart friend. After a few seconds, the kids muttered, shrugged their shoulders, and sank back into conversation.  
  
"Oh, Esmeralda...I apologize, Helga. I misinterpreted your meaning in that statement of 'fresh m-'"  
  
"Never mind, just drop it Pheebs. What can the gypsies do? I mean, can they, you know, curse people, use voodoo dolls, strike down their enemies with flaming bolts of death..."  
  
"Not that I know of. Especially about 'bolts of death'. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Can they kinda, uh, you know..." Helga stammered, scratching the nape of her neck nervously; "Make someone fall in love? I mean, say there's someon- er, someTHING, you really like, and you wanna get their attention."  
  
"Oh, dear. Helga, I thought you were over with ice cream."  
  
"Uh, let's say it's football- No! Maybe Scottish kilts- No, no! ERGH!! You know what I mean, right? Pheebs?"  
  
"Helga...am I detecting suppressed feelings you have towards Arnold?" Helga's lips quivered before she grabbed her friend and dragged her to a small, recessed area out of general earshot of the group around them.  
  
"Yes, yes! I admit it...I love the little football headed dolt! Happy now?"  
  
"Helga, I wasn't specifically inquiring about your feelings for our classmate."  
  
"Doi...you're right, Pheebs. But, anyway, here comes what I've been trying to say...Can gypsies create a serum or something when it comes to love? I just can't tell him, and he's sick of me talking to him when I try." Phoebe's face darkened with what motherly concern someone of her age and personality could give.  
  
"Helga, magic and the work of the Romany would be an erroneous and dishonorable way to attract Arnold to you, or contain your temper. You must do this on your own."  
  
"But, Pheebs, come o-"  
  
"I'm sorry, Helga. That's the truth. Only true attempts for Arnold's heart will allow him to give it to you. If you can't do that, I'm afraid you may not have a chance to win Arnold before someone else does." Helga blinked, before realizing that indeed, her friend was right. Images of Ruth and Lila dragging a dazed, love-struck Arnold away from her caused her to grit her teeth and bear her hands into fists.  
  
"Helga, are you alright? I know some relaxation techniques you may find use-" However, Helga already stormed away in determination and frustration. On the way outside, she punched Brainy across the room in the head just for the heck of it.  
  
  
  
"What's wrong with me today?"  
  
Rhonda sighed as she paced down the sidewalk, kicking an occasional stray can or pebble down the path. Her head had been pulsing strangely off and on through the day, and her thoughts were...disturbingly wrong. She sat down on a park bench, to take a breather and attempt to get her thoughts in a more organized manner.  
  
"Ouch, my head...what the heck's happening? I was more interested in the 'Pathgreum' or whatever theorem and explaining the Big Bang more then my trip to Aspen...and my face is itchy, and my clothes a- Ergh, what's wrong with me?!" Rhonda sputtered, rubbing her face with her hands. She sighed, straightening up.  
  
"A mall crawl...that's what I need...a nice, lazy day of browsing the mall." Rhonda brushed the dust off the seat of her pants and strode the sidewalk confidently, despite her itchy face and the slightly grimy feeling of her hair.  
  
  
  
The mall loomed around her, a cavernous chamber of commerce reflecting the echoes of footsteps, voices, and the shuffle of goods and cleaning equipment. Rhonda wandered down the halls looking for a store to browse and get her mind off the events of today. She shuddered in thought...she was actually worrying about a trivial threat from that fashion hack! Grumbling, she looked up at the wares being offered, store by store.  
  
"Pet store? No thanks. Fast food? Yuck, it'll just go to my thighs. Fashion Sense?" Rhonda paused for a moment, looking up at the glowing sign indicating the entrance to the store. After a moment, she shook her head. Not today. Clothes had struck her boring for the moment. She scratched her black hair in thought, looking around.  
  
"Techno Hut? Huh, never noticed that store before..." the girl mused. She shrugged for a moment, and walked inside.  
  
Rhonda was stunned momentarily by the sheer amount of electronics, computers, stereos, and other assorted merchandise relating to technology. She wandered into the computer section, looking at the state of the art machines and their various devices. She picked up a CD-writer with the look of a kid in a candy shop.  
  
"This looks pretty recent...but is it compatible with my dad's computer? All he wants to do with it is organize and maintain stocks...he probably doesn't even have Solitaire on it", Rhonda thought, looking the box over. "If I had this, I could rip MP3s and burn CDs like no tomorrow...it'd be fun!" she giggled with a short snort at the end. Her eyes went wide and she dropped the box.  
  
"WHAT AM I SAYING?!?! WHAT AM I DOING?!?!" Rhonda screamed at the top of her lungs. She raced full speed out of the store shrieking, knocking over several displays as she went. She ran into her usual haunt, only to be hit by a terrifying revelation.  
  
"There's new outfits from Caprini...and I'm not interested! I want to read comic books and watch...STAR TREK?! ARGH!!!!"  
  
Rhonda took off screaming at full speed until she reached home, then sat on her bed screaming after feeling an attraction to the thought of optimizing her homework capabilities.  
  
  
  
It was now a few minutes before sunset.  
  
Rhonda, having screamed herself hoarse for most of the afternoon, sat on her plush bed, lying on the designer pillows watching "The Fashion Review", smacking her hand whenever it reached for the control periodically to see what was on Discovery or History Channel.  
  
"Get a hold of yourself, Rhonda..." the girl muttered to herself. "Lloyds don't believe in hocus pocus voodoo ramblings. That weirdo was trying to psyche you out, and she did it. So calm down, enjoy the night, and don't give her any satisfaction tomorrow morning. After all, we Lloyds are made of sterner st-" Before Rhonda could finish her sentence, a burning sensation developed in her throat, causing her to clutch it and gasp hoarsely. She gurgled, then fell off her bed onto all fours.  
  
"Ergh....what's wrong with me?!" the girl gasped. Her head pounded, her clothes rode up, and her skin and hair itched something awful. She struggled to her feet, tumbling into her bathroom. Rhonda dragged herself on top of her wash basin, looking at her reflection. She looked sweaty and dirty, stressed something awful. It took a moment for her to realize the terrifying presence on her body.  
  
"Oh...my word. ZITS! Greasy hair! It can't be! It's just hocus p- AARRGGGH!!" Rhonda's clothes seemed to burn. She looked down, to be greeted not with her Caprini sweats and sweater, but a worn pair of shorts and a shirt complete with a stocked pocket protector. "GET IT OFF ME!" the transforming girl screamed, ripping at her altered outfit, but the sewing was tighter then she thought possible, and it stayed put. Her teeth ached, and braces suddenly sprouted from nowhere. Rhonda's eyes blurred momentarily, then refocused in the mirror, only to reveal that she had glasses again. The girl cried again, her voice more nasal now. But Rhonda didn't have anywhere to run to now.  
  
Rhonda's hands gripped at her now-grimy hairstyle; it felt like someone had set her brain on fire. She numbly realized that she was starting to know more about the excavation of Troy then the poor outfits the archeologists would wear to such a foolish...no, intriguing activity! She pounded her head.  
  
"Brain burning...fashion sense fading...not fair!" she muttered vainly before finally collapsing. After a moment, she picked herself up and looked around more a moment before finding her TV.  
  
"Oooh, tonight's Wednesday! It's time for 'History's Mysteries' on History Channel...I can't wait to see what they're talking about tonight!" she giggled in a high-pitched tone that climaxed in a snort.  
  
Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was no more, for the geek had risen. 


	3. The Next Day

"Rhonda! It's time to get up for school!"

Rhonda awoke, dazed and confused. She lay on her bed, still in her clothes from the day before. Rubbing her head, she noticed an acrid morning taste in her mouth, and hands and lips covered in what looked to be the remains of fatty foods.

"Wake up! Do you want to be past fashionably late, young lady?"

"I'm coming Mom, I'm coming!" she grumbled as she dragged herself off the bed. The girl mumbled groggily as she changed her clothes and lumbered downstairs. Reaching the landing, she found her mother waiting angrily.

"Rhonda Wellington Lloyd! I've been calling you for five minutes now!" snapped Brooke.

"Sorry Mom..." the girl muttered.

"And what the devil has happened to you! You're a frightful mess and practically sleepwalking! Just go upstairs and take a shower. I'll give you a ride to school, it's already too late for the bus."

"Okay Mom," Rhonda mumbled as she stumbled back up the stairs.

* * *

No gym class? The day wasn't a total downer, then. Rhonda smiled slightly at this small consolation for her lack of sleeping. She got to segue into her school day during first break. 

"Hey, Rhonda!" Nadine chirped as she came up. "Where were you to- jeez, are you okay? You like heck."

"I didn't get much sleep last night. I kept having nightmares," Rhonda said as she found her way to a vacant bench.

"About what?" Nadine asked sitting next to her.

"Uh... Math. Science. World War Two. That goofy thing that that bald guy drives with a robot or some-"

"The_ Enterprise_?"

"Yeah, that thing. And I had cheese dust and sugar glaze all over my hands and face when I woke up. It was, like, weird."

"Wow. The weirdest dream I ever had was being eaten by a giant ladybug with red spots against black! Isn't that crazy?"

"Uh, sure. Um, I need a drink. I'll be right back," Rhonda promised as she hopped up for her trip across the playground. On her way, she took note of a crowd formed around an excited talker. Standing briefly on tiptoes, she saw Curly, rabid with excitement.

"It's true, guys! She was beautiful! Black hair, glasses, a computer whiz, a _Trekkie_... I found true love at the computer store last night I'm gonna meet her again tonight at eight!" he swooned, clutching his hands together in love. His fellow classmates gradually nodded and said their congratulations to lovestruck Curly, or just chalked it up to one of his usual rants. At least he wasn't ranting about collecting paint chips from Rhonda's locker for once.

As she continued on her way, Rhonda saw Esmeralda talking with Sheena, Katrina, and Patty in the corner of her eye. While nodding in agreement, the aristocrat could have sworn she saw the new student give her an odd, strange smile as she passed.

_

* * *

"Okay, no pressure, no pressure. All you have to do is talk to the new student and have her help you win over your beloved. The worst she could do is turn you into a newt. Or kill you. But you'll get better."_

Rubbing her hands together nervously, Helga tapped the girl on the shoulder. The girl gave a "one moment" motion, then turned around.

"Can I help you?" Esmeralda asked with a welcoming smile.

"Uh, yeah. Can I, uh, talk to you for a minute? You know, just you and me? I wanna ask you about something."

"Of course," she replied as the girls took it upon themselves to wave and leave. "What is your question?"

"Uh, over here. Way over here," Helga answered, drawing her into the shadows with her eyes darting around nervously. When they were finally in her favorite spot for pining, she started to talk.

"Okay, uh, you're able to do things, right? My friend said you may have abilities to, you know, do supernatural things. Curse people. Cast spells. Right?"

"I might," Esmeralda answered, eyebrow raised in a half sly, half annoyed tone. The mono brow hoped it was the former.

"Well, you see, there's this boy in our class that I really, really, really l-"

"Oh, Arnold," she said simply. Helga froze and looked around frantically.

"Who told you?!" she hissed.

"You don't need to be a Romany to tell that you're fond of him."

"Oh. Well, see, I have this reputation of being a bully, and because of my love-hate problems, he's usually my target. I mean, sometimes we're in these situations, as if something we can't comprehend is controlling us, and I always seem to screw it up. I can't seem to, you know," Helga muttered, rubbing her nape.

"You wish to tell him your feelings, but your experiences forbid you."

"I'm afraid he'll reject me like everyone else," Helga sighed.

"I can sense you've suffered greatly in your past."

"It's what made me what I am today!" Helga replied in half hearted sarcasm.

"I don't blame you. Why do you love him so?"

"He's wonderful, kind, caring, smart, sympathetic, and, well... he's adorable, he really is. Sometimes, I wish I could just be held by him so I can tell my problems to someone who'd actually care about them."

"Hold him, you say?"

"Yeah, for as long as I want, whenever I need. That kind of thing."

Esmeralda nodded for a moment, then said "Meet me after school hours, around 8 PM or so. I will bring you what you need to help you in this task."

"Thanks, Esmeralda. I really appreciate it. But, this was between you and me, right? I still have that image to maintain."

"Not a word," Esmeralda smiled. "Not a word."

* * *

Several hours later found the Lloyds finishing dinner. 

"Now young lady, your father and I want you in bed by nine tonight. We can't have you losing sleep like this. It's quite unrefined."

"I know, Mom..." Rhonda huffed as she went back upstairs. Sitting on her bed, she cast her eyes to the window. This view of Hillwood didn't exactly have the visual impact a future apartment in New York or Malibu might have, but it was a good place to see the sunset.

"Stupid nightmares. I think I over studied or something. I should just not bother with it tonight. I mean, my next quiz is Friday, so I can stand an off day. If that doesn't work... Well, I certainly need my beauty sleep. After all, we Lloyds are all about refinement in our day to day l-"

As the sun sank behind the buildings, Rhonda felt like she was on fire. Unlike the night before, the transformation wasn't that painful or obvious, but it still had the same effect. When it was over, the girl shook her head and crawled to her feet.

"Eight at last! Now to visit that lovable lil' guy and pick up from last night!" she chirped as she crawled down the fire escape and bounded away.

* * *

Several blocks away, a girl approached a shadowy form near the fence at PS 118. The waiting form nodded slightly, and produced a small box from her pocket. Her visitor nodded in turn, then both melted into the coming darkness. 


End file.
